Hurling Comets
by kikudog6
Summary: Maybe we'll crash and burn.


Maybe we'll crash and burn

Hurling Comets

Smoke curls from her lips, grey tendrils coiling into the sooty sky. Leaning against the brick wall, she lazily grips a cigarette between her fingers. Through a veil of raven black hair, her now dulled steely blue eyes stare indolently at the smoldering blunt of the joint. It casts a muted beacon in the miserable night, replacing the stars that failed to shine.

_From stars to cigarettes, no more than a cruel metaphor for her life really. _

Two others stand near her, just as wasted and defeated. Music pulsates in the air, melding a jumble of techno and pop. It thunders painfully in his ears, and he tries desperately to fight a life long urge. Though as a vain habit, he instinctively taps to the beat, fabricating his own lyrics to the song.

_Like always, his music reflect his life; cold and despondent. _

The other grasps a can of booze, clutching it until finger-like craters cave in. The alcohol pools at the top of the canister before cascading down in venomous puddles on the cement. Rivulets of the liquor slither in the cracks, eagerly looking for a drop off at the curb. However, before it gets the chance, his foot intervenes, obstructing it's course.

_Because why should a drink reach it's fortune if he can't. _

Her hips sway easily against a stranger's. He didn't introduce himself, and she didn't really care. People swarm around the two, and sweat beads at her forehead, catching the skittering beams of neon lights. She basks in it, pretending that she's finally made her way to Broadway and soon to dozens of movie sets. Closing her eyes, she concocts a colossal stage with thousands of cheers coming from every which way. Though, her fantasy vanishes as screams from a nearby drunken fight erupts.

_Even the biggest stars succumb to black holes after all._

Pain flares just below his eye, and his head jerks back at the force. Though in seconds he rebounds with a savage punch of his own, which only seems to make the other guy angrier. The man's eyes flare with a wild animosity, and he comes barreling at his rival mercilessly.

Sidestepping the stranger, he brings his elbow to his cheek. Hitting him square in the jaw from practice of participating in dozens of brawls due to his lanky and vulnerable body. Though through time, he learned to fend for himself, and developed a bit of reputation. The stranger howls in pain, and with a snarl he brings a fist to the bespectacled boy's nose.

A sickening crunch hurls him to the ground. Blood surges in torrents down his face, though he doesn't dare cry out. The growing crowd arises in cheers at the victory, as the nerdy boy doesn't get victor kicks him one last time in the ribs, ensure his winning.

_It seems old habits die hard; unless you do first. _

She twirls on the dance floor alone. Rocking to her own song against the crowd, shaking her body to an imaginary beat. Though unlike in high school, instead of masquerading as Cinderella, she's Rapunzel, but without the prince.

She's trapped in a castle. Which in itself fits her perfectly; she's trapped in her ever-lasting daydream of perfection. Even with the drugs devastaing her and her friend's life, she simply sees them as extra special candy.

A man walks cockily up to her, easily persuading her to dance with him. For a couple seconds he's her prince. Though as he offers her a couple drinks that just happen to be sprinkled with the special candy, she soon becomes his sex toy.

_Then again, she always liked games. _

Then there was the girl that everyone leaves for last. However by now, she had long since accepted being unwanted and taken for granted. So she found clubs and bars to be a bit of a save haven for her. All she had to do is dress a little more crude than usual and play the part of a gorgeous drunken girl, not that it's hard for her; she's an actress after all. For once she can have boys paying mind to her, even if it's as result of beer and skimpy clothing. For once she can feel beautiful and wanted, though under it all she's just a pathetic slut.

_And she finds it ironic that the worst is saved for last._

**Well this was an attempt on an after Hollywood Arts story... For the most part I like it! I know some parts are shorter than others but that's just how it turned out. My inspiration for it was from John Legend's song Ordinary people, and the summary is the line that inspired me. **


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